


so just pull the trigger

by Darnaguen



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, F/M, Ficlet, Gambling, Kissing, M/M, Multi, OT3, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-OT3, Sexual Tension, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15049466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darnaguen/pseuds/Darnaguen
Summary: “Oh, don’t poutHaan.” Lando lounges back, licking his newly berry-tinted lips with a lazy grin. “You know all you have to do isask.”(Qi’ra’s eyes are glinting and her smile is dagger-sharp. Han knows the look: it’s one she wears whenever she has a winning hand.The dice on the table are mediocre at best. He shakes his head and drinks deep.)





	so just pull the trigger

–

“Qi’ra, darling, I do believe it is your turn.”

“So it is.” She stands, leaning over the table with an appraising eye and the corners of her berry-dark lips curve upwards. “A kiss, for luck?”

“But of  _course_ , my dear.” Lando stands as well, dusting his lapels and running a hand through his hair with a winning smile.

Han rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his spiced ale (it’s Lando’s round, after all). 

And promptly nearly chokes on his drink.

Qi’ra’s mouth melds with Lando’s over the table in a languid, open-mouthed kiss. Their hands rest on the table, only the tips of their pinky fingers touching, but he suddenly feels like he’s intruding on something far more intimate. And it annoys him, especially as he discovers his mouth has suddenly gone very dry.   _Did she just… Did he just…  _Someone cheers.

He clears his throat, almost involuntarily, and she pulls back with a mercurial smile and casts her hand. The dice hit the durasteel surface with a thunderous clatter (why is everything so  _loud_  suddenly?) and she goes to fix her lip-paint, casually as ever.

“Oh, don’t pout  _Haan._ ” Lando lounges back, licking his newly berry-tinted lips with a lazy grin. “You know all you have to do is  _ask_.”

(Qi’ra’s eyes are glinting and her smile is dagger-sharp. Han knows the look: it’s one she wears whenever she has a winning hand. 

The dice on the table are mediocre at best. He shakes his head and drinks deep.)

*

Two rounds later he’s staring at the smoke-tarnished ceiling, head lolling back against the wall. The cantina has quieted down considerably but the party isn’t over yet: Lando and Qi’ra are singing. Harmonising, of all things, old Corellian lullabies. 

They sound like some mythical, rapturous afterlife. A decidedly  _adult-themed_ afterlife. Han squirms in his seat and thinks he might be going crazy.

_Blinking lullabies, you pathetic mudcrutch._

He closes his eyes and exhales but jumps when he feels a hand on his knee. “Your turn, flyboy.”

“I don’t sing,” he protests immediately, blinking rapidly at Qi’ra whose face hovers very close to his.  _When did that happen?_

“No, silly,” she laughs. Her eyes are wide and hazy as she presses the dice in his hand. He straightens and rubs the dice between his palms, blowing on them gently.

Qi’ra’s hands close around his. “I have a better idea.”

He swallows. “What, you want me to snog Lando too?” 

His voice is both sharper and huskier than he intended and Lando’s eyebrows quirk up as he trails his knuckles down Qi’ra’s arm.  _When did thathappen?_

“Mmm,” she hums, making a show of considering carefully, finger tapping against her bottom lip. “I think… maybe…"

 _"...not._ ” And just like that, she’s climbing into his lap, sliding her hands under his jacket and straddling his thighs.

His hands flutter in the air for one, doubtlessly comical moment before settling down on hers and then crawling upwards to grip her hips as she kisses him deeply. Or he kisses her. Either way.

It’s not like they haven’t done it before. That’s not it. But… something feels different as his fingers tangle into her ponytail and he pulls back, panting slightly. His eyes meet Lando’s over her shoulder and his mouth goes dry again.

“Oh, don’t stop on  _my_  account,” the smuggler drawls.

Han hates his life. Or maybe he loves it. It's difficult to tell sometimes.

–


End file.
